


Nine Years Later

by itsaquinnquinnsituation



Series: X Years Later [6]
Category: Newcastle (2008)
Genre: Canon Gay Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Gen, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 19:39:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2440514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsaquinnquinnsituation/pseuds/itsaquinnquinnsituation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exactly what the title implies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nine Years Later

**Author's Note:**

> None of the characters or the plot of the original movie belong to me. I am not making money off my work, which is written for entertainment purposes only. 
> 
> This is my universe and exactly how I see it. Writing should be enjoyed, not judged.
> 
> I have not watched the movie in awhile, so I am starting to forget minor details about the characters' lives and the only movie copy I can find online is dubbed into another language with a poor translation. So, at this time, I am writing the universe the way I see it in my head. If it diverges from how it was laid out in the movie, or some details don't match - please forgive me. The characters have taken a life of their own in my imagination, and I am simply sharing with you what I see in my mind's eye. 
> 
> I am going to stop calling my bits with a number as I figured out how to connect them in a series, and I will soon run out of numbers anyway. I do not have so much time for full-fledged bits now, but I will try and jot down semi-plotless vignettes here and there - because I enjoy keeping track of little pieces of their lives as they appear spontaneously in my head. 
> 
> I highly recommend everyone to watch this movie.

 

 

 

 

"Love breeds more love. Isn’t it right, Andrzej?"

She stretched her hand across the table and Andy shrugged his shoulders a little with a somewhat sheepish smile, but took it eagerly nevertheless, and smiled, looking directly into her eyes. Then both of them turned to Fergus. 

It would have seemed odd to a stranger on-looker, perhaps, but this thing, the three of them sitting around a small round table in a neat quiet kitchen in Andy’s Mum’s house, was quite a common and frequent occurrence. Each of them, Andy and Fergus, owned a key to her house, which stood unlocked when she was home anyway, and neither ever needed an invitation to just show up. Andy did it all the time, of course – he was still working fairly close – but Fergus had done it a few times also – a couple of them without Andy – and it never – not for a moment - felt weird. 

 

Love breeds love. 

 

Fergus could say almost for certain that he didn’t really know what love was until he met Andy. In his own childhood, he saw little love. His parents got on well as a team – in fact, they seemed more like a couple of coworkers, than a married couple, because their interactions were ever so businesslike and devoid of emotion. They served out their parenting duty to the full, providing food, clothing and education to both of the twins, but neither took any genuine interest in them. The family dinners were rare and filled with either awkward silence or stilted remarks. Fergus still remembered the time, when the twins were barely seven, and still very good friends, that Jesse turned to him, brushing away his wavy blond hair and with unchildlike sadness in his eyes, asked in a whisper:

“Don’t you ever wish that we were never born?”

Their mother seemed always exhausted and their father, indifferent. Fergus blamed himself a lot when he was younger because he very quickly went from being just “the younger twin” to the “weak and sickly twin" as he drifted in and out of hospitals with chronic bronchitis and recurrent upper respiratory infections. Perhaps, on top of dealing with her older son, it was all a bit too much for his mother. 

Living with Victor was hard – he only liked them when he was younger, but when he reached his teenage years, they suddenly turned into an insufferable burden. He tried to keep appearances in public, at times, but at home, he snubbed and derided them constantly. He also came to despise his stepfather, who took even less interest in him, than he did in his own two sons. All of this grew and brewed in Victor for years until he landed in juvenile jail and quickly thereafter, moved out with friends. 

It all changed somewhat for the better when they moved to Newcastle and close to their extended family members who seemed at least open to providing some support, but by then, Fergus felt, it was much, much too late, because he and Jesse were almost adults. It would now take a superhuman effort to change them.

If love breeds love, then un-love breeds un-love. Both of the twins, and even Victor, were distrusting to the extreme, prone to negative emotions, and, generally, cold and socially awkward. In Jesse, just like in Victor, this childhood un-love eventually grew into anger. He was angry almost all the time and for no apparent reason, to the point that his face was going red and his eyes bulged, and it took a tiniest provocation to set off an explosion. He hated – with passion – sometimes, he hated everything around him. He hated Fergus because he was different. He hated his father because he was indifferent. He hated Victor because he longed for his acceptance and had never received it. And of course, he hated anyone who was more athletic than him. He struggled to maintain any friendship because he sought ulterior motives incessantly and he hated himself for that even more. 

Fergus got the other end of the stick. He didn’t struggle with hate – he fought with depression. Anything that would have thrown Jesse into a rage, plunged Fergus into a bottomless pit of self-pity and pessimism. He went through life without hope of finding love because he hardly felt he deserved it. He viewed himself as an unfortunate embarrassment to his family. By his early teens, he already expected to be bullied and betrayed, took it as a natural thing – as anyone would, after his twin brother had turned on him, making him into an outlet for his own pent-up emotions. In retrospect, he and Jesse, they could have stuck through it together, and they maybe could have pulled through with just their brotherly love, except that neither of them really knew how to love. Hating came natural to one, mourning – to the other. And neither was in any position to contribute to the positive bond. 

 

Love breeds love. 

 

Andy grew up without a father. His father existed, of course – but very much so on a part time basis. At some point, he quietly moved out, though he continued meeting with Andy and sending him gifts, hiring him surfing coaches, signing him up for competitions. He contributed money to the family and Andy never witnessed him fight with his mother – they parted on terms of friends who just grew apart. Andy’s father was from Adelaide and Andy never met any of his father’s relatives. 

So it all came down to his mother. Andy described to Fergus what his mother used to say to him when he was younger and upset about his father’s absence. She would say to her son: “He gave me life in Australia and he gave me you. That is more than I could ever ask for. Now if he doesn’t want to be here, we don’t need him anymore, because I have you and you have me.” At some point, Andy must have believed it. 

Fergus admired Andy’s mother just as much, if not more, than he admired Andy himself. She spent her childhood and teenage years in an overcrowded, underfunded Polish orphanage, having never known her parents. Yet, as she would frequently relate to Andy, the amount of kindness, love and support that the attendants and teachers instilled and fostered in their charges, more than made up for the lack of new clothing and toys. She grew up adoring the older children who took care of and protected her, and when it was time, she did the same for the youngsters. She told Andy, it may have seemed strange, but she hated finally having to leave the orphanage. 

So really, Andy must have acquired some of that love when he was still in her womb, through some kind of a passive diffusion. Because Andy didn’t just give love, he _was_ love. Fergus was drawn to him immediately, as everyone was, but his genuinely kind nature was so overwhelming to Fergus that even when he found himself spending all of his free time just basking in Andy's presence, he always waited for the other shoe to drop. Andy was just too good to be true. His existence was if not impossible, then still highly improbable, on this planet. Even when they officially got together, he subconsciously braced himself for the worst. That part of him never changed. 

 

Anyone who, going into a relationship, hopes to change the other person, is doomed to ultimate disillusionment. Yet, anyone who, going into a relationship, expects to remain the same, is just as delusional. Fergus never felt that Andy wanted to change him – Andy never pushed, never demanded, never insisted he do or be anything other than what he was, but Andy’s love and his gift of giving was so pervasive, that slowly, Fergus began to change. He didn’t even notice it all of a sudden, but little by little, he started to wonder, as he began calling his boyfriend’s mother “mama”, if this was how things really should be, or how they are for people who have never had to deal with their twin brother wishing neither of them had ever been born. 

 

Love breeds love. 

 

Love is greater than the sum of its parts. Fergus never really understood how he even had it in him to fall in love with Andy in the first place – if it came from his own heart, or if he had somehow absorbed some of the love off of Andy himself, and it ignited and lit up his heart, yearning to be close to its original source. He needed him desperately, at all times, even when it was too embarrassing to admit it, if just to himself – because Andy was like a source of light, source of energy that kept him going. And as much as he absolutely enjoyed having Andy all to himself, he could never overlook the fact, how incredibly at home he felt around his mother. The ease and eagerness with which mother and son gave and accepted love never stopped to amaze him. 

And now sitting with them at the table, Fergus smiled as Andy stretched out his hand. Fergus took and held it. From the other side, Andy’s mother repeated the gesture, and Fergus took her hand too, and the three of them sat around that table for a few peaceful moments of silence. 

You can think of it what you want, but she's right.

 

Love breeds love.


End file.
